


May I have This Dance?

by Skasha



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Zevran is a sweetheart and no one can convince me otherwise, a pervy sweetheart but a sweetheart none the less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skasha/pseuds/Skasha
Summary: After the business with the tower everyone needed a drink, and Zevran decides that the warden needs a drink ...or three. And a nice distraction.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was from a prompt (the same as the title) on tumblr featuring my warden Luna Surana.

As they left Lake Calenhad behind, and what was left of the mages, Wynne had suggested going to a tavern the next time they were in a town. None of them had felt particularly inclined to point out the tavern near the docks, a favorite of the templars who worked in Kinloch Hold. Alistair had shrugged, more subdued than Zevran had seen him and quietly agreed, and the others chimed in with various levels of enthusiasm. 

Except of course for Luna who had just entirely stopped talking after she had exploded at the other warden. He frowned thoughtfully and glanced between the two wardens who were both trying to avoid the other. Drinks, yes. After that blighted demon infested tower all of them could probably use a drink. 

 

The tavern was dingy and humid and loud, and Zevran felt himself relaxing a small fraction. Ferelden may be different, vastly so, but some things never changed. Wynne had ordered two bottles of wine as soon as they entered with an expression pinned on that only barely qualified as a smile before she promptly sat down in a corner away from the others and started drinking. Straight from the bottle. After a pause Morrigan had primly sat down at the same table. The two struck up a minor argument about spell classification, and deliberately avoided speaking of anything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

Leliana and Alistair headed to their own table leaving him and Luna still standing in the doorway. He smiled, all the better really, and led her to a table near the door. They could both use the distraction, and drinking with the elf equivilant of a tiny tempest could be fun. A whole head shorter than him with red hair and dark blue angry eyes, and she'd managed to knock him out lightning fast when they first met. With actual lightning. There was a joke about that somewhere, he was sure of it. Zevran ordered them a bottle of brandy and drummed his fingers against the table giving a wink to the serving girl when she came back.

Luna looked like she was finally starting to come out of it, her head starting to slightly move in time with the music from the group of minstrels. He passed one of the half filled short glasses over to her, nudging her hand to get her attention. “While this is certainly not Antivan brandy, or even good brandy, it works best if you drink it.”

She snorted. “Can it make you forget faces?”

“Certainly. Not permanently of course, but...” he shrugged, “I don't think being sober right now is going to do you any favors.” He took a sip from his own glass.

She tilted her head to the side, and the corners of her lips twitched but didn't quite lift into a smile, she drank down the glass in one go and promptly had a coughing fit. Zevran scooted his chair close to hers and thumped her back a few times till she was breathing normally again. She gestured to the bottle and he filled her glass again with a small chuckle. Luna took a much smaller sip this time while looking at him over the rim, “This burns like liquid fire.”

“The bad stuff usually does.”

“And the good stuff?”

“Oh it burns as well,” his eyes slid down her frame, his smile turned warm, “but in all of the very best ways, I assure you.” Luna knocked back the rest of her drink without coughing this time, her eyes still studying his face.

There was definitely the start of a smile on her lips when she set her glass down, Luna leaned in a fraction closer. He drained his glass and poured himself another before pouring more for her as well. The music and noise of the tavern faded away to the background, leaving only the pleasant warmth spreading out from his belly, and the prickly heat that started where her arm brushed his that swirled together leaving his thoughts muddled. This was a bad idea. A wonderful bad idea; warm, and soft, and wearing a blood stained warden uniform. They could both use the distraction but he waited, still not completely sure he'd read things correctly over the previous months. 

She idly ran a finger over the rim before asking, “Do you stare at everyone like that?”

“Not everyone.” He leaned in a little closer, their shoulders brushed. “But a beautiful woman like yourself?” He bit his lip, “Why not? I am sure you draw many stares, from men and even other women.” He took a sip from his glass, “Does this bother you?”

“Not really, no” she took another sip from her own glass, her eyes still locked on his.

He still couldn't quite tell one way or the other just from her expression. Well, in for a copper in for a sovereign, he took a deep steadying breath, “But you would prefer I desisted, perhaps?” his eyes skittered away, “It would be difficult, traveling as we do in close proximity, but I am nothing if not a gentleman.”

Her hand was on his now, toying with the buckles of his glove, “A gentleman? That's too bad.” she said with a wicked smile that promised exactly the sort of distraction they both needed.

Zevran blinked, “Oh?” he took her hand, his lips grazed her knuckles, “Now this is intriguing.” he grinned “I shall have to redouble my efforts immediately.” He stood, and still holding her hand, “May I have this dance, my warden?”

She laughed as he drew her away from the table and closer to the minstrels, “We're going to be the only ones dancing, you do know that?”

“So we shall start a trend,” he pulled her close, closer than what was usually done on a dance floor, and whispered into her ear, “There was a young elven dancer in Antiva City once, and I believe I actually managed to stare off all seven of her skirts.” Luna shivered. “It's a trick worth retying.”

She pulled his face down, lips close enough that they brushed, “Then I should help you practice. For purely academic purposes, of course.”

He pressed forward the last small space for a brief kiss with a smile, “Of course.”


End file.
